Who I Am When I'm With You
by Adnama
Summary: This cannot possibly end well...the  (  unfortunately  )  true story of my  (  inappropriate  )  feelings for  (  the devastating  )  Sirius Black.


**Author's Note: So this is a quick little five-chapter story that I've had floating around in my head for the last few days. I was in the middle of writing chapter five of **_**Of Broomsticks and Boys**_** when an image of a young Sirius Black playing big brother to a lovelorn sister figure took up residence in my head and refused to leave. In an effort to get him out of my system so I can work on **_**OB&B**_**, here's the first chapter of **_**Who I Am When I'm With You**_**. **

**Chapter 1 - Love is (not) Patient**

Love, in my experience, is neither patient nor kind. In fact, it's downright cruel. For the past six years, love has played Russian roulette with my heart, randomly taking aim and pulling the trigger, leaving my nerves splintered and my heart bruised. No, if love was patient, it wouldn't have played the coward until time was nearly up.

If love was kind, it wouldn't have tangled my heart with his.

I met Sirius Black on my first day at Hogwarts. I had just been sorted into Gryffindor and had taken a seat next to a smiling Prefect, when a bark of laughter drew my eyes to the end of the long table. Sandwiched between a boy with round glasses and a sleepy-looking classmate was a slender boy with large blue eyes and a laughing mouth. His tanned skin and prominent cheekbones made him look more elf than boy, yet it was his infectious laugh that turned so many heads. It was difficult to look away, but when his eyes unexpectedly met mine, I hastily looked down at my plate, pretending to be enamored with my helping of Shepherd's Pie. When I finally gathered enough courage to glance in his direction again, he had gone back to chatting amiably with his friends.

Later that night after my new roommates had gone to bed, I returned to the common room to sit by the fire and write my first letter home. I sat hunched over my letter for nearly a quarter of an hour before I finally put quill to parchment. Before long the quiet of the common room was disturbed by the rhythmic scratching of my quill. I signed my name at the bottom and prepared to seal it shut when the portrait swung open and the same boy I had watched laugh with his friends at supper climbed in. Upon seeing me, he started as if surprised, and then smiled.

"You're up awfully late," he remarked simply.

I ducked my head, suddenly feeling shy. "I promised my mum I'd write to her about the sorting as soon as I got settled." I gestured to the parchment on my lap. "I had a difficult time putting it all into words. To be honest, this whole place kind of leaves me speechless."

He smiled happily, "Hogwarts has a tendency to do that." He sank into the chair next to mine and tapped his fingers repeatedly against his leg, as if keeping time to a song only he could hear. "I saw you at the feast, but didn't catch your name. I'm Sirius Black, by the way."

"Violet Sidell," I said with a small nod. "My friends call me Vi."

"I'd tell you what my friends call me, but most of my nicknames aren't suitable for a lady's ears," he said seriously.

I grinned. "Who said I was a lady? I have two older brothers whose language could make a goblin blush."

He leaned forward with an interested expression on his face. "Now that's quite impressive. I'm going to have to meet these brothers of yours. Are they still at Hogwarts?"

"Afraid not," I shook my head sadly. "My youngest brother, Henry, has been out of Hogwarts for three years." I continued, seeing his curious look. "I was what my brothers like to call a mistake."

Sirius laughed. "Sounds like something a brother would say."

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" I asked.

"Just one, but he's not at Hogwarts yet. He's only nine." His affection for his brother was obvious. The pride in his voice was hard to mistake.

"I hardly ever get to see my brothers. Do you miss yours?"

He nodded sadly, but quickly covered it with a wry smile. "Most of the time. But I have James, and he's practically my brother."

"James?" I asked. I wondered which boy he was referring to, the one who looked like he needed a nap or the one with glasses.

"Potter. He's my best mate. He's an ace flyer and bloody brilliant at playing pranks." Sirius' elfish face lit up. "Are you any good at pulling pranks?"

I shook my head in disappointment. "Not even a little."

At that, he deflated slightly. "Oh. Well, I suppose that's just as well. Wouldn't want you to draw the attention of Malfoy or Snivellus anyway."

Although I didn't know specifically which Malfoy Sirius was talking about, I knew enough about the Malfoy family to assume one bad egg was just like another. I hadn't, however, ever heard of a Snivellus. "What's a Snivellus?" I asked snickering.

Sirius' pointed face darkened. "Not what. Who," he said ominously. "Severus Snape, a greasy Slytherin," he spat. "You'll stay away from him, if you know what's good for you. Dabbles in the Dark Arts, and he's only a second year."

I puffed up a little indignantly. "If you're not afraid of him, why should I be?"

His eyes glittered darkly in the firelight. "He knows more curses in his sleep than you'll know by your seventh year. I, on the other hand, can handle a tosser like Snape." His bright, mischievous expression was gone. In its place was a more sinister kind of mischief. The transformation was startling. I got the impression that there was more to Sirius than met the eye.

I laughed nervously. "He must be your usual victim, yeah?"

As if sensing my unease, his face shifted back into its carefree expression. "You might say that." His tone was once again light. He glanced at his watch then stood and stretched, arching his back like a cat. "Well, Vi, I'm for bed. I'd suggest retiring soon too if you want to be fully awake for your first breakfast at Hogwarts."

I laughed and picked up my quill once again. "I just have to add one more thing, then I'll turn in as well." I watched him climb the first few steps of the boys' staircase before quietly calling out, "Good night, Sirius. See you at breakfast?"

He paused on the stairs and flashed me a grin over his shoulder. "Wouldn't miss it." Then he turned and continued up the stairs and disappeared around the corner.

With a soft smile, I turned back to my letter and scribbled a hasty postscript.

_P.S. I think I'm going to like it here._

That was five years ago. Sixth year was shaping up quite different than previous years. For one thing, I was finally past that awkward stage where my legs and arms felt too long for my body and my face picked the most unfortunate times to develop spots. To put it mildly, I had had a rough few years. Academically, I was middle of the pack. Not terribly bright like Bristol Sheridan, but not hopelessly dim like Terry Littleton. I did well enough, and that was fine with me. The most constant thing in my life was Sirius Black. As unlikely as had seemed in first year, we had developed a strong friendship, the kind of friendship that ignored growth spurts and thrived on challenges.

The sprightly boy I met in my first year had grown into a slender, yet attractive young man. He had grown into his large blue eyes and laughing lips and had gained the sort of confidence that came naturally only to those who didn't know they possessed it. Yet despite these physical changes, he was still the same mischievous and reckless boy I spotted across the supper table nearly five years ago.

In light of my brothers' absences, Sirius unconsciously stepped in as a protective brother. To my chagrin, on my first date to Hogsmeade, he followed my date around and lurked in corners with James, shooting intimidating glares every time my date initiated any sort of physical contact. My first Slug Club party a couple years later wasn't any better. Every time I managed to get my hands on a spiked glass of pumpkin juice, Sirius would sweep by and steal my cup, only to replace it with apple cider.

And oh, the rows! Our fights were practically legendary. They lasted days and everyone around us suffered. Most of the fights were his fault. He was hypocritical and unreasonable. I was too reckless and naïve. But it didn't matter who started the row. Sirius would always finish it. After a sufficient enough time passed, he would call up the girls' staircase for me to come down and we'd sneak off to the kitchens to make up in private and catch up over a glass of milk and a plate of sweets.

It was during one of those late night kitchen conversations that I first realized I was in love with Sirius Black.


End file.
